“But… what are you going to do with it? Even if we do a profile, you’re not going to be able to give it to the police. Chain of custody and all. It’s compromised as evidence in a trial.”
“But I’ll know who it is,” Micah said. “I can do a composite. If I see him again, I’ll know him. I can give the police a drawing, tell them that I realized I saw more than I remembered that night.”
“That’s…” Veronica’s eyes were wide. “That would be a lie.” She knew that Micah was a rule-follower and never lied as a social nicety or to cover for herself or for someone else’s mistake.
Micah met her eyes. “I need this.”
Veronica hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
They both looked at Chastity. “Is this going to be a problem?” Micah asked.
Chastity matched Micah’s gaze without flinching. “Is what going to be a problem?”
Micah studied her, trying to discern whether she really didn’t know what Micah wanted her to do, or whether she was agreeing to look the other way.
“You’ll do it?”
“I just process what I’m given.” Chastity shrugged. “If it’s in my in tray, it will get done.”
“Thanks.”
“How do you want this labeled, then?” Veronica asked, pulling the bag toward her.
“Uh… yes.” Micah thought about it, trying to figure out what would be the least suspicious way to label the sample so that it wasn’t pulled out by Kwong or somebody else with questions. “Can you post it as an unsub for Michael Morse? I’ll call him and give him a heads-up in case someone asks.”
Veronica frowned, looking at her. She knew that Michael was a software consultant, not a client. But clients and consultants shared the third-party identifier database, so the same number could be used in either the supplier or purchaser field.
“Put it under Michael Morse,” Micah repeated.
Veronica nodded, grabbing her intake form and writing Michael’s accounting code at the top. Micah looked at the two women, breathing out slowly. “Thank you.”
“You don’t know who it was?” Chastity asked.
“No. And it’s weird… because I don’t think it was a random attack. I’m worried that it might be someone who is already in the system. Someone I did a composite for. Someone I put behind bars.”
“If you put him behind bars, then what is he doing out?” Veronica asked.
They both just looked at her. Veronica rolled her eyes and nodded. “Okay, just because someone gets sent to prison doesn’t mean they stay there. Sorry. I guess I always think of our unsubs as being lifers. People that have done such horrible things, that once it goes to trial, they’re never getting out.”
“Even people serving life sentences get released, get put on some work program, or escape. This guy… if the police hadn’t been by to check on things, he could have killed me.”
Veronica stared at Micah’s bruised face, nodding gravely.
“If he’s someone we’ve processed before, it will be flagged by the system,” Chastity advised. “Hopefully, we’ll know who it is right away. I’ll let you know.”
Micah nodded. She leaned on the counter, exhaustion dragging her down. She still needed to get permission to access the company server on her laptop to work from home. And she needed to grab whatever was urgent from her physical inbox.
She sighed. “You’re going to need my profile to eliminate,” she told Chastity. “You’re bound to get some of my skin and blood cells from those clippings too.” She raised her brows at Veronica. “Can you get me a collection kit?”
“I’ll just eliminate the double-X,” Chastity said. “No need to worry about it, unless your mugger was a woman.”
“No. But… you’re still going to need my profile.”
Chastity shook her head. “No. It’s fine. It will be easy to tell which DNA profile is yours, because you’re a woman.”
Micah swallowed, looking at Chastity, then glancing over at Veronica. “I need a collection kit.”
Veronica blinked, then reached under her lab bench to pull out a sealed collection kit with a swab inside. She handed it across to Micah.
“You’re not?” Chastity demanded, frown lines forming between her eyes.
Micah had never needed to share her medical history with the EvPro team. She didn’t want her details to become water cooler gossip. But she worried that Chastity was going to come to incorrect conclusions and start rumors. The two had never been close and Chastity often acted like the two of them were in competition. That was all Chastity needed, some rumors to spread about Micah’s sexuality.
“I have AIS,” Micah told her stonily. “I have X and Y chromosomes.”
“Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome?” Veronica said, a little too loudly.
Micah looked around, making sure that they were still alone. “Yes. And that’s private medical information, so if you share it with anyone, you’re in breach of the law.” She looked at both of them to make sure they understood.
“So you are genetically male,” Chastity said. Her eyes were curious, sweeping Micah’s body as if she were looking for some sign that she was transgender, or that Micah was making a joke.
“Women with AIS don’t respond to testosterone,” she said quietly, though it was something Chastity, a DNA expert, should be fully versed in. “An AIS body doesn’t develop male characteristics. It instead converts androgens to estrogen. It has a male genotype, but a female phenotype.”
Chastity nodded. “Do you have complete or partial?” she asked curiously.
Micah was not prepared to deal with the questions. She was exhausted and wanted to sit down or have a nap. “You don’t need to know that for the profile.” She indicated the test swab in her hand. “You only need this.”
“Right. Of course,” Chastity agreed, professionalism reasserting itself. “If you’ll have Veronica process that, I’ll eliminate your profile and see what is left.”
“Thanks. Let me know when it’s done. I’m going to do some work from home.” Micah gestured toward her office. “I need to sit down for a minute. I’ll do this,” she indicated the test kit again, “and talk to someone in IT. I’ll have it to you in a few minutes,” she informed Veronica.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.” Veronica dropped her eyes to examine the nail clippings. “I’ll get right on this.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Micah was asleep by the time Cole got her home. He shook her arm gently.
“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.”
Micah groaned. “What?”
“Let’s go into the house. You can go straight to bed when you get in. I told you that it was going to be too much for you.”
Micah fumbled for her door handle, made sure she had a grip on her purse, and tried to get out. Cole reached over and released her seatbelt. Micah looked at it, juggled her purse so that the belt could retract, and tried once more to exit. This time, the various parts of her body worked together and she was able to stand up and start shuffling her way up the sidewalk.
She was badly in need of more painkillers. She had thought that maybe she’d be able to start weaning herself off, but it was way too early for that. She was going to need them for at least a few more days. And of course, Cole and Marianna had both been right; it had been too soon to venture into the office. Micah had known that. But she had to get her attacker’s DNA processed if she had managed to scratch him during their fight.
She needed to know who he was. How to recognize him if he showed up at her door posing as a salesman or walked a dog down her street looking for another opportunity to get close to her. And she wanted to know if he was someone she recognized or had put in prison.
Her work had always seemed theoretical before. It was practical, because they helped to catch perps and put them behind bars, but it was still several degrees removed from her. She never saw the criminals, rarely saw the police officers or other parties who had contracted for her work. She sat in her office wh
ere it was safe and drew faces. At the end of the day, she went home and didn’t worry about how she could destroy someone’s plans, completely changing the direction of his life.
But now it wasn’t theoretical. Now someone was targeting her. It had to be someone she had drawn.
Cole walked at Micah’s side, and when her energy started to flag and she slowed, uncertain she could make it to the door, he put his arm around her and had her lean on his shoulder, steadying her and helping her to get the rest of the way.
“Thanks,” Micah breathed. “I never knew my sidewalk was so long.”
She had to dig her keys out when she got to the door because Marianna didn’t meet them at the door and it was locked. Micah didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake her if she was asleep.
Cole unlocked the door for her and pushed it open. Micah hesitated, not stepping in straight away.
“You okay, Micah?”
“Yeah. Just… just anxious.”
He looked around her. “Is there anything out of place? Is something wrong?”
His questions just made her more nervous. What if the man had returned while she and Cole were gone? They had left Marianna there alone, defenseless.
But the door wouldn’t still be locked if he had broken in. It would be unlocked, like the last time.
“No. Just nervous after what happened. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Let’s go in, then.”
Micah lifted her feet over the threshold, one at a time. She had never noticed how high it was, either. Her body was not cooperating with her. She thought she had a glimpse of what it would feel like to have mobility challenges or to get old and start to lose control of her functions.
It wasn’t a very nice feeling.
The house was quiet. Cole followed her in and shut and locked the door, muttering again about the lock. He took her arm once more and helped her down the long hall to her bedroom.
Marianna was asleep on the bed, and roused when she felt Micah lie down on the bed, letting out a prolonged sigh. Micah was relieved to see that she was okay. No burglars. No attacker. She had just needed a nap.
“Micah! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Micah mumbled. “But I could use a drink and some more painkillers.”
“I’ll get you some. You rest here. I’ll be right back.”
Marianna hurried out of the room. Micah’s eyes met Cole’s. “Where exactly does she think I’m going to go?”
He chuckled. In a few minutes, Marianna was back and helped Micah to sit up to drink the water and swallow the pills. Micah sank back down into her pillows, closing her eyes and waiting for the drugs to take effect.
❋
She slept a lot longer than she thought she would. She had been waking every couple of hours the day before and thought that would continue, with her being able to stay awake a little longer each time and gradually gaining in strength and stamina so that she could start to do some work.
But instead, she slept the day away and, when she awoke again, the room was getting dark. Micah flailed, disoriented, feeling like the world was tilting on its side.
“Mom?”
Marianna hurried in. “Micah. Hey, that was a long sleep.”
“Mom?”
Marianna sat on the side of the bed, tilting the world even farther, and Micah grabbed her and held on, trying to prevent herself from falling off.
“It’s okay,” Marianna assured her. “You’re alright. Did you have a dream? Cole said that you might dream about the attack. But you’re safe, sweetie. Everything is okay.”
“No…” Micah squeezed her mother’s hand. “No, I wasn’t dreaming. I don’t think so. I just… didn’t know where I was at first.” She looked around the room, and it gradually became more familiar to her. Not her childhood room at her parents’ house. But her own bedroom at her own house. She was at home. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Micah had never realized that the layout of her bedroom was the opposite of the one she had grown up in. It had never mattered to her before. Now she found it disorienting and unfamiliar.
“Do you want another pill?”
Micah moved her body slowly, feeling the deep bruises, the strained muscles and swollen joints. “Yeah. I guess.”
Marianna had left a glass and the pills on the side table, so she had them close at hand and didn’t have to leave this time. She smoothed Micah’s dark hair, studying her with concern. “There. Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. Just felt weird when I woke up.”
“Do you need anything? You should try to eat again. Do you think you could manage some soup and crackers or toast?”
“Mmm.” Micah tried to sit up. Marianna helped her, readjusting pillows and helping Micah to lift herself the best she could. Eventually, Micah was sitting up most of the way. Her head spun. “Maybe a little toast. Just one slice. No soup.”
“You need to get enough nourishment if you want to heal fast.”
“Not too much. Nauseated.”
“Okay. Do you want your father to come sit with you while I make it?”
“Umm… okay.” Micah would never have predicted that she would be afraid to be alone or would want one of her parents there to keep her company just because the other was leaving the room. She felt like a feverish child, fussy and hanging on to a teddy bear. Like when she’d had tonsillitis.
“Cole!” Marianna headed to the kitchen, explaining to Cole on the way that he needed to sit with Micah.
He sat down on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just slept the whole day away.”
“Well,” he shrugged, “you did.”
“And I feel like… like I’m sick. Nauseated and disoriented. My head is spinning.”
“If that lasts too long, you’ll want to go to the doctor and make sure you don’t have an infection. But it’s probably just the painkillers. They can make you woozy.”
“Oh.” Micah nodded. It made her feel a bit better to have an explanation for the way her head was feeling. Just a side effect of the medication. She would get over it. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Mom is going to make you some food?”
“Just toast.”
“Well, she should be able to manage that.” His eyes twinkled, and Micah realized for the first time that he knew she wasn’t a good cook. In all her years, she’d never heard him criticize her mother’s cooking. He always ate it without complaint, as if it were exactly what he wanted. She smiled.
Micah heard buzzing and looked around, trying to identify it. She thought at first that it might be a fly against the window, but it was too cold outside for insect life. Then she thought it might be the cat, cuddling up to her and purring, but she didn’t see any sign of Meow.
Cole caught her searching gaze. “It’s your phone,” he said. “Do you want it?”
“Oh! Yes, please. Where is it?”
He picked her purse up and poked around in it gingerly before coming out with her phone and passing it to her. Micah squinted at the screen, trying to control the movement of her eyes, but the vertigo kept her from being able to focus properly, her eyes moving from side to side, trying to control the spinning of the world around her.
“Dad…?”
He took it from her and looked at the screen. “You have some text messages. The last one says, ‘Evidence processed and passed on to Chastity for sequencing.’”
“Oh, good.” Micah put her hand over her stomach. “That’s good.”
“Don’t they know that you can’t work right now? They shouldn’t be sending you messages; they should just be letting you sleep.”
“No, this is something I asked for. I wanted them to get this for me.”
“You can’t do work right now,” he warned. “You can’t even see straight.”
“I’ll be better once I have a bite to eat. And maybe I’ll tell Mom to lower the dose of the painkillers a little bit.”
“You’ll be in too much pain.”
“Too fast. You’re going to have to wait for your body to start to heal. Right now, you need sleep, not work.”
“Can I have the phone back?”
Cole handed it over.
“I need to make a call.”
He looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You want me to put the number in for you?”
“No, it’s in my contacts list. I can just tell it to call.”
“These newfangled phones. It’s crazy what they can do.” He sat there, not moving.
“Why don’t you go see how Mom is doing,” Micah suggested. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“Oh!” He finally seemed to get it. “Well, just tell me to get out of the way, then. Is this a work call or a personal one?”
Micah let out a laugh. Did he think she had a boyfriend on the side? Someone she wasn’t telling him about? “Work.”
“Okay. Just give us a shout when you’re off. It shouldn’t take too long to finish making toast.”
“I hope not.”
He left the room, pulling the door just behind him. Micah told her phone which contact to call, and put it to her ear, waiting for it to ring through.
Michael Morse’s voice sounded in her ear.
“Michael here. Oh, Micah. How are you doing?”
“Well… actually not too good,” she admitted. “I was attacked the other day, in my yard, and I’m feeling pretty rough.”
“You were attacked?” he repeated, his voice jumping to a higher register. “You’re kidding! Are you okay?”
“Just bruised. Nothing serious,” Micah assured him, knowing he would be thinking about the assault of his girlfriend, Ash. Micah’s assault, brutal as it was, had at least not included rape or left her in a coma. Ash was recovering, but Micah knew it would be a long time before Ash could put it behind her.
“What can I do to help?” Michael was anxious for more information. “What exactly happened? Who attacked you?”
Virtually Harmless Page 15
